Spring Break, Spring Cleaning

The last few days I've been cleaning. Not just ordinary cleaning, mind you. Out and out, get-your-chemicals, open all the windows, don the gloves, beat the rugs with sticks, get out the garbage bags, scrub down the floors, down and dirty CLEANING. And BELIEVE me, my house needed it.

Disclaimer: Normally, my house is very clean. I am a clean freak most of the time. But ever since I started working full time? (Sadly - almost 2 years ago...) My house and it's cleanliness have suffered.

So as I said, I've been POWER cleaning. I've only really gotten the kids' rooms done, but still! It feels darn good. Because the kids' rooms were...gross. Just gross. And in serious need of mucking out.

Because I know you're riveted to this very interesting post about me cleaning, I will now list strange and bizarre items found during my Spring Quest to Scour the Kids' Bedrooms:

• t-shirt, size 2T (distressing mainly because my kids are currently aged 7, 9 and 11)


• various and sundry rocks and pebbles (Cole went through a rock collecting phase a while back)


• 23 yogurt lids (evidently a yogurt lid collecting phase, as well)


• 1 small tooth in a baggie (I'm thinking this is the handiwork of that careless tooth fairy. Dang her.)


• roughly 5,417 legos (the little itty bitty kind - the kind that when the tender sole of your foot steps squarely on said lego in the middle of the night when you're up going to the bathroom? You hop around and hiss various curse words through clenched teeth. Not that I would do that, you understand. I'm just saying some people might.)


• a fuzzy piece of shriveled petrified fruit (banana? apple? test results are still pending)


• $1.57 in pennies nickles and dimes (which was promptly added to the Mommy latte fund. Or possibly the Mommy margarita fund. Actually, these funds are interchangeable on an 'as needed' basis.)


• a folded up note labelled 'Top Secret, Don't Open - That Means You' in which Lexi has laid out a covert plan describing how she plans to hunt, locate, torture, and destroy The Enemy (her brothers) complete with diagrams, maps, and illustrations.


• Valentine candy (or possibly Halloween candy? Circa 2007? 2008? Not sure, but inedible nonetheless)


• 3 tokens of various sizes & unknown origin (Chuck E. Cheese? car wash? arcade?)

Pretty weird stuff, I know.

So 3 garbage bags and 2 Good Will bags later, I am done. I am exhausted but ready for tomorrow's challenge. For then I shall tackle the laundry room. I can't wait! (Yes, THIS is how so very sad my life has become. I'm looking forward to cleaning the laundry room.)

So with that, I'll leave you with this little tidbit from last night's conversation with Cole:

Cole: outta the blue..."Mom? When I grow up, I hope I have lots and lots of chest hair."
Me: "Well, you just might. But why, praytell, do you wish for that?"
Cole: "Well...if I had lots of hair, I could shave words on my chest."
Me: "Yes. There's that."
Cole: "Like, I could shave, 'Yeah!' in my chest hair."
Me: "Yep, you sure could." Afraid to ask, but, you know, I had to...
"But why? WHY in the world would you want to do that, Cole?"
Cole: thinking...thinking... "Wait! I know! If I was at a football game, and my team won, all I would have to do is.. THIS!" At which time he ripped open his shirt to expose the imaginary 'Yeah!' shaved in his imaginary chest hair.

Me: "...."
and to my husband sitting happily & obliviously in the other room..."Honey? In 10 short years when Cole goes off to college? He is sooo not allowed to join a fraternity."

And even though my husband heard nothing of the chest-hair-word-shaving conversation, he wholeheartedly agreed.